Too Much Too Little
by empathapathique
Summary: A year before the 14th Gundam Fight is to begin, Domon leaves Rain for six months to train. It doesn't make her too happy, though. Angst gallore. Have fun! DomonRain
1. Without You

**Disclaimers: **I do not own G Gundam and/or any of its characters and/or Gundam models mentioned in my fic. However I'd greatly appreciate it if whoever owns the characters and etc. would give them to me.

**Author's Note:** Ooo look everybody! It's back! And longer! And has bigger words! lol. Anyway, big thank you to Jen23 for her help on this. You guys can thank her for all the extra content; it was when I was going over the errors she found in it that I started adding stuff. lol. My wrist feels a lot better now (I feel down the stairs and sprained it), and I've finally come to see how much I take being able to type for granted. lol. Moving right along, enjoy the chapter :-)

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**Too Much Too Little**

**Chapter One:** Without You

Rain took an unconscious step backwards, a hand coming up to rest on her chest in a futile attempt to stop the furious beating of her heart. Her other hand held on to the molding of the living room doorway with a white-knuckled grip, her digits throbbing in pain from the sheer force she was emitting. Yet the woman felt nothing, saw nothing—felt nothing save the ache in her chest from the tight knot her heart had twisted in, and saw only the man before her who's words had caused it to occur.

_Domon,_ she thought mournfully, opening her mouth to speak however finding that words just wouldn't come. Her mouth closed slowly, lips setting into a grim line as she regarded the man before her. His eyes, his face, his stance, his build. She knew him—knew the boy he'd been when they were both children. They'd separated only to be reunited again, and Rain had spent the past few years knowing him as an adult—as a man. Domon Kasshu… God, how did she ever get him? He was the King of Hearts—winner of both the 13th Gundam Fight and the hearts of thousands on both the earth and colonies. Impetuous and rude, guarded and insecure, he was bad for her health, yet everything Rain needed to survive. Rain cherished him, adored him—loved him with every fiber of her being and more. She gave him all she had; her heart, her body, her soul—it all belonged to him.

Domon controlled her emotions with his every action; brought out her tears or her smile, filled her with euphoria or despair. They were like pieces to a puzzle; they completed each other. What he lacked she filled in, and what she didn't have he provided in turn. He was her everything. And, after more than three years of his unwavering devotion, Rain knew that she was his everything as well.

Yet despite this, there were things that Rain just didn't understand—things that Rain never would. He was a fighter, she the pretty doctor who patched up his wounds. They were as different as could be; she soft and curvaceous while he was straight and hard; she empathetic and caring while he was indifferent and aloof. They contrasted in nearly everyway imaginable, however none of that mattered—not when it came to matters of the heart. Perhaps with another couple, however Domon and Rain loved each other too deeply, too all-consumingly, to pay heed to the differences that separated them in the eyes of the world. Her soul spoke to his as his spoke to hers; they had a language all their own, a language that no one could understand but they themselves.

It was a language that was spoken with shy smiles and blatant stares, with the holding of hands, with quiet laughter, soft caresses—with hungry kisses and impassioned cries. It was a conversation between two souls—two fates—two lives that were forever bound together.

Yet he was leaving.

It seemed that the one who oversaw the fates of the two had every intention in showing the pair how much pain was actually associated with love, and had wanted desperately to see how far it could take the two before they broke—before they could take no more and, sadly, walked away.

Time after time they were presented with challenges, and time after time they'd overcome. However overcoming was always easier said than done, and overcoming this obstacle wouldn't be easy—for either of them. For this time, they'd be apart, and they would be battling to come out on top on their own.

Rain couldn't do it.

She continued to gaze at her boyfriend of three years, her blue gaze shimmering in the dim light provided by the lamp as tears filled her eyes. _Why,_ she kept asking herself. _Why?_ He'd just returned only a few months before. Why did he need to leave again? Why could he just…?

Rain bit her lip to stop the sob that threatened to tear from her throat, turning her head as she adverted her gaze from the man standing before her. The words that he'd spoken to her the day he'd rescued her from the clutches of the Dark Gundam came back to her with vicious clarity, his voice echoing in her head as the scene unfolded in her mind.

"_I'll never leave you lonely Rain," he had said. "I'll never break your heart. I love you so much."_

The hand at Rain's chest clutched the material of her shirt tighter, her nails digging into the wood molding of the doorframe as a choked sound fell from her lips, face contorting in anguish and eyes shutting tightly as her tears began to fall.

Domon drew in a sharp breath at the sight of her tears, a sense of panic rising within him as he gazed down at the wounded woman before him. He reached out for her, his arm outstretched in the air as he reached for her tentatively. He hated to see her cry—to see her in pain. It made something constrict painfully in his chest, adding to the pain of his already aching heart. He was overwhelmed with the urge to beat whatever was causing her this pain into a bloody pulp, flinching inwardly when he realized that the person he wanted to beat was himself. The fact only served to make the pain in his chest intensify, and Domon winced as he continued to reach out to pull the woman he loved into his embrace.

His fingers ghosted over the cool skin of the hand clutched at her chest as he continued to reach for her. As if sensing his nearness, Rain shifted her eyes to look at his hand, bringing her watery gaze up to his, a hopeful light brightening them a bit as her tears continued to fall. Domon stopped at seeing her look, his body momentarily going still as indecision flashed through his eyes. Finally he came to a decision, his face muscles tightening and teeth grinding together as he forced himself to retract his hand and place it at his side. He would be… strong.

Yet what was strength? What did it mean? Especially right now, in this situation, as an ill-covered sob fell from the lips of the woman he loved; as he felt her pulling away from him, slowly yet surely drawing into herself to stop the hurt that _he_ was causing? Strength didn't matter when it came to Rain—it didn't even _exist_. When it came to Rain, Domon had always been weak, indecisive. Isn't that what had gotten him into this situation in the first place? Wasn't it because he was too weak that he didn't tell her he would be leaving to train a month ago when he and the rest of the Shuffle Alliance first decided that they would? Domon scoffed at his irresolution. Not anymore though. This time—this time he would be strong.

For despite the fact that Rain was important to him, so was his title as the King of Hearts. Years ago, when Domon had first received the crest from his master, he'd promised him that he'd always train to become better—to become stronger. And it was a promise Domon intended to keep—no matter what.

The fighter's eyes darkened, his jaw setting determinedly as the conviction that he was doing the right thing filled him. It was conviction that, deep inside, left him feeling cold, however Domon shook the feeling off, trying to blank his mind of things of that sort as he took a step towards his lover. He would be strong. He _had_ to be.

"Hey, Rain," he said, "it's not that bad." He placed a strong hand on her shoulder, gently massaging the soft flesh in his grasp.

Rain looked up at him, her eyes widening at the contact. He leveled her with a benevolent look, the corners of his lips pulling into a small smile as he stared at her. Rain gazed at the man disbelievingly, something pulsing roughly in her chest until it broke—shattered—leaving her feeling hollow and empty. The woman gasped at the throbbing pang that formed in its wake, shutting her eyes tightly as she tried to prevent the falling of more of her tears.

Domon's brows furrowed in perplexity as he stopped the movements of his hand and shot his girlfriend a quizzical look. "Rain?"

The pang in Rain's chest dulled, the agony she'd been experiencing since Domon had told her he would be leaving a few minutes before mysteriously beginning to fade with peculiar rapidity. Her tears suddenly stopped, that odd, burning sensation remaining behind her eyes as her disbelief, as well, ebbed away. For a moment, a singular sweet moment in that harsh reality, Rain felt nothing—no pain, no sorrow, no fear—nothing. She was numb, unfeeling—empty.

The emptiness, however, was soon filled, uncharacteristic indignation forming deep within the center of the nothingness. Domon's words repeated in her head, and she could feel her ire grow, spread—course through her like the blood in her veins—as she stared at the King of Hearts with unabashed anger.

"Not so bad?" she snapped, her tone sharp and unbelievably bitter. "You're telling me that you're going to be gone who-knows-where for _six months_ and it's _not_ that bad!"

Domon blinked incredulously. "Rain—"

"No, Domon," she interjected angrily as she shrugged off his hand. "No!"

A small gasp escaped the fighter's lips as he stared at the furious woman before him, his shock shown clearly on his features. Sure she had the right to be angry with him but this was more than anger. This was fury—rage. And mixed within it all was this _bitterness_. Domon wasn't used to these types of emotions—not coming from his Rain. _His_ Rain may get angry sometimes, but it wasn't like this—never like this. Only once had she… Domon gave himself a mental shake. He wouldn't think of that time—of that day. Not now. "Rain," he whispered, taking another hesitant step towards her, mahogany gaze uncertain as he stared down into her eyes, blue orbs darkened in aversion. "What's wrong with you?"

Rain shook her head vigorously, taking a step away. What was wrong with her indeed? _She_ didn't know why she was behaving this way. She couldn't help it. She just had this anger in her—this rage. She couldn't hold it in. It was too _much_ to hold in. The pain, the heartache, the betrayal, the anger—there were too many emotions for Rain to deal with—too many emotions to sort through in too little amount of time. Domon was leaving, after all. And though her normal reaction may have been to cry and beg him not to, or even to nod solemnly as she tried to understand, Rain couldn't do that now—not today. The pain had been too much, too all consuming. Something within her had broken, relieving her pain and giving way to fury she had never experienced in her life. And it wouldn't go away.

"Look," Domon said as he reached for her, "I know you're angry but—"

Rain slapped his hand away. "Angry?" she reverberated. _"Angry?_ You don't have a _clue_ as to what I'm feeling!"

Domon frowned at her. "Rain…"

"No!" she yelled. "Don't you even _dare!"_

The fighter's features darkened into a telltale scowl, his hands clenching and unclenching in an unconscious effort to quell the familiar sensation growing within him. "Fine," he gritted out. "I won't touch you. But tell me, what the hell is wrong with you?"

She eyed him with heated incredulity. "What's wrong with _me!_ You're leaving Domon—_again!"_

Domon's hands fisted at his sides as his eyes flashed with anger. "I'm sorry okay!" he bellowed, the incensed outcry finally breaking through the woman's fury. Rain gasped, her features momentarily coming unguarded as she automatically took a step away. Domon glared at her, proving her effort to get away pointless as he closed the gap between them with a single step.

"Look," he said, voice tight with barely contained emotion. "I love you. You _know_ I do. But I have _other_ obligations Rain! And I can't change them! None of us in the Shuffle Alliance can." He paused, looking at her meaningfully. "Everyone seems to understand that except you; even Nastasha doesn't have a problem with Argo leaving and she's two months pregnant!"

The angry light returned to Rain's eyes as she matched Domon's glare with one of her own. "Well I'm not Nastasha!"

"I know that!" he rejoined. "But couldn't you at least _try_ to understand!"

"I _have_ been trying to understand! I tried when you left the first time two years ago to go train for a month. I tried the second time when you left last year for _three_ months to go train. But now," her voice faltered a bit, that familiar pain resurfacing and making it hard to speak. "Now you're leaving me for half a year. Domon I—I just want to be with you," she finished softly, the ache in her chest growing steadily worse. She placed her hand on her chest in futile hopes of placating it, looking away as the pain intensified beyond what she'd been experiencing before. _God,_ she thought as tears began to brim in her eyes. Her lower lip trembled as she attempted to hold them in.

Aware of the change in her demeanor, Domon's eyes softened. He sighed. "Listen," he said softly, placing a finger under her chin and gently turning her face to his. "You _know_ me, Rain. You _know_ I would stay if I could. But I can't. And no matter how much it may hurt, you have to deal with that." Rain winced at the sound of his words. They were so blunt, so hard—so devoid of any emotion; exactly what she _didn't_ need to hear. Rain jerked away from his touch, squaring her shoulders as she turned away and started for the living room stairs.

Domon released a sound akin to a growl. Infuriated, he grabbed Rain by the upper arm, turning her around and pulling her forcefully to his chest. "Don't you walk away from me," he whispered fiercely.

Rain glowered at him, not even noticing the tears leaking from her eyes until she saw Domon's gaze soften, his grip loosening as he opened his mouth to say something. Rain didn't give him the chance. Taking advantage of his loosened hold, she ripped her arm out of his grasp. "Why not?" she shot back bitterly, her heels making a soft, clicking sound as she backed away from him. "You're walking away from me, so I mind as well walk away from you, too!" And with that she turned away, racing up the living room stairs and to the bedroom she shared with the man she'd just turned away from.

Rain leaned against the door after she locked it, her breath leaving her lips in hard, labored huffs. She could hear her heart beating in her ears, thumping so hard she thought it would break. _But it _is_ going to break, _she thought woefully, sliding against the side of the door and to the soft carpeted floor. …_As soon as Domon leaves._ She could hear fighter yelling and cursing on the floor below, however exerted herself to ignored it. Rain didn't want to hear him—to see him; she didn't want anything to do with him at the moment. _Because he's leaving,_ she thought, her lips trembling as her heart twisted in an agonizing knot. The woman drew her knees to her chest, burying her face in her thighs as she began to sob. _I hate him_, she told herself, _I hate that man. I hate him so much it hurts!_

* * *

Domon's hand trembled as he wrote, his handwriting on the paper appearing sloppier than usual. _I shouldn't be doing this_, he said to himself, _I should just go right up there and make her understand!_ He cursed under his breath. God, why was she being unreasonable? He was going to be gone six months—was that so long to wait? 

_She says she loved me,_ he thought, briefly pausing his writing as he considered the situation._ But if she really means that then she'd try to understand—which she's not. She's only thinking about what _she_ wants._ His eyes flashed determinedly._ Well you can't have everything you want, Rain. It's impossible._ And with that, Domon signed his name to the bottom of the letter.

He looked around the kitchen, holding the note with trembling fingers as he hastily placed it on the counter. He stepped away, sighing as he grabbed his bag from where it rested on the floor. He was going to miss this kitchen. It was the place where he'd ingested nearly every meal he'd eaten over the past three years; most of which Rain had prepared herself—a fact which, a few years ago, would've made him blanch. Domon smirked a bit at the thought. She'd become quite the cook over the years and Domon wasn't afraid to admit it—though maybe in not so many words.

The kitchen was huge; the walls a mixture of pastel yellows, blues, greens and white. The cabinets were solid oak, granite countertops that had made his girlfriend squeal when she ran her fingers across them sitting atop the wood. The floor was made of solid oak as well, still shining from the waxing Domon had been giving it every month since he and the woman he loved had first moved in.

Some kind of houseplant sat on the counter, along with a large bowl of the fruit of the week: plums and bananas. Domon cringed at the thought of the latter, bananas having been a deeply hated fruit since he was a child. His mother had forced him to eat them when he was little, and Rain shoved them down his throat now. Domon smiled a bit as he looked at the pot rack hanging from the ceiling, at the different appliances around the room—half of which he didn't think Rain had ever used more than once. Cookbooks were stacked on the counter by the sink, a dish rack to the side of it and hand towels and potholders hanging from handles above it. The kitchen was, in a word, beautiful. Like one of the kitchens in some of the home improvement books Rain was always exclaiming over, a kitchen that, in his opinion, was far too big for its own good, yet one that he loved despite it.

It was like that with the whole house though. The damn thing was huge; three stories in total, if you counted the attic. Three bedrooms, two and a half baths and an assortment of other rooms that really weren't necessary. Yet what he deemed as necessary really didn't matter. The house was for Rain—was the unspoken want she'd never voiced when they'd begun their house hunting after the final incident with the Dark Gundam. Rain had been hospitalized at the time, so Domon himself had actually done all the hunting on his own. He'd asked her what she wanted, and, giving him a wan smile, she'd told him that anything was "fine." He'd scowled at her. How was he supposed to know what "fine" was?

Domon was pretty sure that he and Rain had drastically different definitions of "fine." Fine for him was a small hut in the middle of the woods. Fine for Rain was… well, the whole girl thing; the big house with the garden and stuff that all women want when they're girls. Rain had assured him that whatever he chose would be okay. She didn't mind, she said, as long as she was with him. Domon had continued to scowl at her, though his lips twitched a bit, and he couldn't help the small smile that had forced itself onto his face before he left.

In the end, Domon had decided against the small house he'd been looking at and had purchased the one the two were currently still living in—which, he swore to this day, Allenby had nothing to do with.. The expression on Rain's face when they'd stepped out the corelander had made his heart swell with pride and filled him to the brim with glee. He'd gotten his first kiss that day, though it was a bit rushed. Rain a little distracted with her want to see inside the house.

Despite the fact that, at the time, the thought of living in some big fancy house had made the fighter cringe, Domon had grown to love the home he shared with his girlfriend in the years they'd been together. Everything was so warm in their home, so friendly. It was elegant in its own way—in Rain's way. And the effort that she'd put into making sure he was comfortable had made Domon feel as if he loved her even more.

Rain took care of nearly everything around the house. She cleaned like a mad woman, and cooked him dinner every night when she returned home from work in the evening while he was still out training. She did the shopping and handled the paying of bills. And him… God, she pampered him. She treated him like a king. Yet all he did was hurt her in turn. Domon looked down at his feet.

God, he loved her so much. His heart constricted at the thought of the tears she'd shed when she finally came down from their room; when she saw the sloppily written letter he'd left on the counter. The image of her as she'd been in the living room minutes before came to him, and his heart constricted a bit more at the sight of the obvious affliction in her eyes. Maybe he could put off his departure until she…

"No," he murmured fiercely to the silence of the kitchen. _No._ He had to be strong. Because right now, that was what was important… right?

Something in Domon's heart told him different. He shook the feeling off, however, slinging his backpack higher on his shoulder as he made his way towards the door, his heart already aching for Rain's touch. _Pathetic,_ he told himself jokingly. _And you haven't even left yet._ He threw the kitchen a rueful smile.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he grasped the knob to the side door in his hold and turned. The door opened silently, the cold January air assaulting the man as he took a final look into the kitchen. He turned away, closing his eyes and willing himself to stay focused as he closed the door. He walked over to his corelander stiffly, making a point of not looking back as he hoped into the vehicle and left.

* * *

It wasn't until late that night that Rain emerged from the room. She walked down the staircase slowly, her knees weak and head throbbing as she held onto the banister for some much needed support. She stopped in the living room, her eyes falling on to the couch where she half-expected to find Domon, the light of the television casting sporadic shadows over his face as he sat absorbed in some absurd show. And when he saw her, he'd click the television off, his eyes never leaving hers as he stalked towards her—deliberately slow—and pulled her into a burning kiss once they were face to face. And when they, finally, broke away from each other, he'd hold her tight, telling her that he was sorry, and that he'd never leave her again… 

Rain sighed dejectedly at her thoughts. What good would wishful thinking do her _now?_ Domon wouldn't ever change his mind about going off to train. Not even for her. The man was as stubborn as a bull. And when he made a promise, he kept it, even if it meant breaking another one he'd made. Rain sighed again, absently wondering when her six months without him would begin, seeing as she'd been a little too _irate_ to ask him earlier.

The woman walked into the kitchen, flicking on the light sluggishly as she made her way over to the fridge to get something to drink. She took out a bottle of water, gulping down nearly half of it before noticing the lone piece of paper atop the counter. Rain's brows furrowed at the sight of her name written across the top of it, immediately recognizing the poor handwriting as that of her missing boyfriend. Placing the cap on her water, Rain picked up the paper and scanned over its contents quickly, all the blood having drained from her face by the time she'd finished reading.

Rain read the letter again, positive that she'd read it wrong. However none of the words changed, and its meaning rang clear in her mind. Drawing in a labored breath through her lips, Rain allowed the letter to fall from her grip, her hands trembling so badly that she could barely support its weight. She managed to make her way to one of the bar stools around the counter and sat on it. Her face fell to the counter as a new batch of tears rushed from her eyes. If she thought the ache in her chest had been bad before, it was even _worse_ now. It was twisting, and burning, and pulling, and aching and God, it just hurt so badly. _I can't believe it,_ she thought. _He really—he already—he's gone!_

On the floor lay the letter Domon had written her earlier.

_Rain—_

_I don't want to hurt you but this is something I must do. You have to understand that. Because neither you nor I can change it the fact that I am the reigning King of Hearts. And as the King of Hearts I have obligations other than being with you. Please don't hate me. I'll be home sooner than you know it._

_Domon_

Rain banged her head against the counter as she continued to cry. Her tears were for more than the fact that Domon had gone and, once again, broken his promises to her, but because she didn't know how she was going to survive six long months without him.

- - - - - - -

Love is... repetition.

- - - - - - -

TBC...

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**Author's Note:** Sooooo what do you guys think? Was it better--worse? Comments are deeply appreciated, and constructive critisism is always welcome. You can say "this sucks" and I'll love you, granted that you tell me the reason why. lol. Anyway, seeing as no one can deny that I've been updating my G Gundam fics like mad, you guys won't hear from me until sometime in August. I have to start working on my YYH fics again. It's getting ridiculous...

Anyway, thanks for reading!


	2. Heartburn

**Disclaimer:** I don't own G Gundam.

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**Too Much Too Little**

**Chapter Two:** Heartburn

Kumiko Okeda, evening receptionist at Takashi Yamane Medical Center, thoughtfully tapped her pen against the desk. A soft, hmming sound escaped her lips, her mind busy at work as she tried to find the correct word that would fill in the final blank of the crossword puzzle she was working on. Of course she wasn't _supposed_ to be doing crossword puzzles while she was at work, however just sitting around and waiting for someone to approach her with a question was just… well, boring. And with that mindset, flipping through magazines—or in this case, doing a crossword—didn't seem like such a bad thing after all. _A seven letter word for misery, _Kumiko pondered as she bit down on the top of her pen, not paying attention to much save her crossword. She hmmed thoughtfully._ Distress? No, that's eight letters…_

The sharp sound of heels clicking against the floor could be heard down the hall. The sound increased in volume as a person drew closer to the receptions desk, eventually breaking Kumiko's train of thought. The black-haired woman blinked, looking up from her puzzle just as a mane of chestnut tresses passed by her. It was familiar, belonging to a doctor she recognized from the fifth floor.

"Konban wa, Mikamura-sensei," Kumiko greeted, her voice loud as she called to the doctor.

Rain stopped her advancement towards the exit and turned to the receptionist, smiling politely as she stopped in front of her desk. "Konban wa, Kumiko."

Kumiko's smile brightened, a small rush of excitement creeping through her at the thought of a conversation with the woman. Dr. Mikamura was one of the few people she knew who understood traditional Japanese—let alone knew how to speak it as well. Ever since the Gundam Fights began taking place, English had been named as the universal language of all countries in order to ensure easy communication. Countries began to phase out traditional dialects, English being taught in schools and used as the main language. Though in some places both English and the country's original tongue was spoken, those places were rare. Kumiko herself had learned Japanese from her grandmother when she was a child, it not being taught in her grade school. It was satisfying to be able to put her language skills to use—even if just a little bit.

Kumiko turned around, looking at the clock mounted on the wall behind her. It was after six. "You're here a little late today. I thought you were gone already."

Rain nodded, understanding. "I know. My shift ended more than two hours ago." She sighed tiredly, running a hand through her hair. "However one of the doctors on my floor said he would be an hour or so late, so I decided to stay and help out a bit until he arrived."

Kumiko smiled. "That was nice of you. So are leaving now?"

She nodded. "Hai. I'm done for the day."

"I see." Kumiko leaned forward on the desk, resting on her forearms as she completely forgot about her crossword puzzle and continued to chat with the other woman. "Tomorrow's your day off right?" Rain nodded again. "Will you be coming in? I've noticed you've been working on all of your days off lately."

Rain arched a cinnamon brow in question, the faint traces of her past smile leaving her lips. "Is that a problem?"

"Of course not!" Kumiko exclaimed quickly, putting up her hands before her as she attempted to amend her mistake. "I didn't mean it to be rude. It's just that…" Her words trailed off, guilty brown gaze falling to the desk.

Rain's brows furrowed in question and she moved closer to the desk, curious as to what she had to say. "It's just what?"

The younger female looked up slowly. "It's just that—" She paused again, her voice taking on a lower tone. "Doesn't your boyfriend have something to say about it? I mean, he's a little possessive…"

_Possessive…?_ Rain thought, momentarily confused before Kumiko's meaning hit her. _Domon._ Rain could feel the familiar pang in her chest at the thought of the man, pain she had come to feel _whenever_ she thought about him now. Trying to avoid this, she'd decided not to think about the man at all, though that was much easier said than done. Domon had always occupied Rain's thoughts, and now that he had… gone, he only occupied them more. Still, she didn't want to hurt, and resolved to try and keep the fighter out of her mind as much as possible—which she did by working all the time.

Rain had taken to working at least one shift everyday, though she tried desperately to get in two if she could. A single eight-hour shift didn't do enough to tire her out—to bring her to a point so close to exhaustion that she couldn't think even if she wanted. And Rain _craved_ for that kind of exhaustion—she _needed_ it. Most of the time, she couldn't get to sleep without it. Sixteen-hour shifts were necessary, and if it weren't against the law to work a third at the same establishment, Rain would have been working twenty-four hours a day—give or take an hour or two for break. Her work schedule was all screwed up because of it; no one knew if she was coming or going anymore. Rain didn't care though. And she didn't care if anyone else did, either.

However today her help wasn't needed, which meant that tonight, Rain would be sleeping in her own bed, not on the ratty old couch in the staff lounge she tended to crash on after working for hours on end. The thought made her cringe.

Rain looked away from Kumiko, not really paying the woman much attention. "Oh," she said softly, thoughts of Domon dominating her mind. "This is about him."

Kumiko nodded. "Well, yeah. I mean, that last time you worked all these shifts in a row, he came here and _made_ you go home. And he wasn't too happy about it either…"

Rain nodded, her face taking on a distant expression as her mind recalled the incident. It had been… _interesting_, to say the least. The looks on some of her colleagues faces as they watched her and Domon argue with each other were priceless. A fellow doctor on her floor had gone on maternity leave and Rain had picked up a few of the woman's shifts, which hadn't agreed with Domon Kasshu at all. She was just doing a coworker a favor—a favor which Domon wouldn't have minded _nearly_ as much had it not cut into the time Rain usually reserved for him.

And though the fact made something within her surge with affection for the fighter, Rain hadn't hesitated to tell him that he was being irrational, and that behaving like a petulant child. Granted, they were on their way home when she said this, and in reality, Rain was only teasing, however Domon had responded to her words with his usual abrasiveness. The two argued the issue the whole drive home, the argument continuing even as they entered the house; heated words passing between them still as a trail of clothes was made from the foyer and up the stairs to their bedroom, their lips connecting and parting in brief but fervent kisses.

Yet though the incident had been funny and even sweet in its own way, the thought of the occurrence failed to raise Rain's newly lowered spirits. _He's been gone for five weeks now,_ she thought as she looked away. _Five long weeks._ She sighed aloud. Broken hearts _really_ weren't any fun.

Rain, of course, had had her heart broken before, however this time it was different—the feeling wasn't the same. This time, there was a sharp, burning feeling deep within her—almost as if her chest was on fire. And sometimes it was almost too much to bear. Her lower lip began to tremble and her eyes pricked with the promise of soon-to-come tears. _Oh Domon, I just wish you'd come back to me!_

For five weeks she'd been alone in their house. Their big, _empty_ house. It was why she didn't want to be there. Everything was so quiet, so lonely. Rain got the impression that the walls were closing in on her, trapping her, giving her no space to move, no air to breathe. It was maddening, and it made Rain feel incredibly vulnerable. She felt like she was a child again, cringing in fear and crying out to her parents to save her from the monsters under her bed. Only, she wasn't child anymore, and she wasn't crying for her mother or father to rescue their scared little girl. She was a grown woman now, and, while not exactly sure if she was _crying_ out to Domon, Rain knew that she was waiting for him. And that the monsters were no longer under her bed, but that they were inside of herself.

What the monsters were, she didn't know. There were there though, and with all of the ferocity of a thousand of silly, childish nightmares, which don't seem quite so childish when you're younger, and didn't seem quite so childish to Rain _now,_ they attacked her mind. She couldn't stand it. And she couldn't stand to be alone while she faced the pain.

And maybe she _did_ know what was bothering her. Maybe she _did_ know why, this time, she so desperately wanted him to stay. She couldn't say it—God, _no_, she could _never_ say it—but she knew what it was. It was her flaw, her secret, her _monster_. And it had resurfaced. Rain had never dealt with it without Domon near, and, frankly, she didn't think she could. She _wasn't._ Anyone who looked at her now could see _that_. Little more than a month had passed since Domon had left. Could she really keep this up for much longer?

Her imperfections had her mind in turmoil, and her lover's absence had her anguished heart broken into miserable little pieces. No, she couldn't do this _at all._

During the daytime things weren't so bad. She could ignore the pain—pretend as if it didn't exist. It was silly, she knew, but it got her through the day. However at night Rain could ignore it no more. The empty bed was too much reminder of it—too much reminder of who wasn't there. At night she cried herself to sleep, sometimes unable to bear the cool sheets on her skin even if she _was_ exhausted. Her heart was broken, and no amount of pretending would ever change that, or convince her tormented mind that it wasn't true.

When it all boiled down to it, it came to this: She needed him. Now.

And yet, Domon wasn't there.

Kumiko stared at the pained expression on doctor's face, her alarm obvious. "Dr. Mikamura, are you okay?"

Rain blinked, her mind floating back to the conversation she was having with the receptionist. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath through her lips. "Oh don't worry about me, Kumiko. I'm fine." She provided the woman with a false smile, all the while forcing back her tears. "And yes, I'll be coming in tomorrow as well."

Kumiko's eyes widened in worry. "But won't your boyfriend be upset with you if you do? After last time…" she trailed off, choosing not to finish the statement.

Rain gave her a pained smile. "Don't worry about it, Kumiko."

"But Dr. —" She stopped at seeing Rain shake her head. "Doctor?"

"He left," she said, her voice quavering a bit as she spoke. "So I don't think he'll mind much."

Kumiko's eyes widened, a startled gasp escaping her lips. "_Oh no_! That's horrible!"

Rain nodded. "It is."

"But I don't understand. I mean, he may have been possessive, but he loved you."

_If he loved me so much then why did he leave? _Rain bit back in her mind, keeping the bitter comment to herself. Of course Domon loved her. Everyone didn't see it—some couldn't see past her charm or his moods to realize that, when you stripped them both of everything they used to cover themselves before the eyes of the world, they were, essentially, perfect for each other—that they fit. But neither Domon nor Rain cared for what other people saw, nor for what they thought.

They heard what some people whispered, what some people had been whispering for years. Domon may have been the winner of the 13th Gundam Fight, and he may have helped to save the world from the Dark Gundam, however, when you got right down to it, what did all of that _mean_? It changed him in ways, but basically, he remained the same. The same egotistical, indifferent prick that cared naught for what other people thought of him, and was prone to temper tantrums and even pouting when he didn't get what he wanted. He was insecure, and sometimes he needed to be held, though it was something that he'd never admit.

He had terrible nightmares sometimes, nightmares that he awoke from sweating and shaking and crying. Sometimes Rain had to wake him herself, and deal with his tears, and his shaking, and put him in the shower because he was just _soaked._ And when she would ask what the dreams were about, he'd never say. Though she already knew what they were about; it would take a complete moron _not_ to. She didn't know anything specific, but she knew the basics. His dreams were about his family and his master; about the Dark Gundam and all the pain and destruction it had inflicted on the people close to his heart. He didn't like to think of himself in that category, though; didn't like to think of himself pain. Physical, maybe. But nothing emotional. _Never_ emotional. It made him feel weak, and God forbid the King of Hearts felt _weak_. And, in some insanely complicated way, he figured that telling Rain of his dreams would _make_ him weak, and would make her see him as weak as well.

Sometimes, when she asked, he told her to mind her business and leave him alone. Sometimes he was silent. Sometimes, he just cried. After awhile, Rain had stopped asking. She didn't really _need_ to know, not yet. Not until Domon was ready at least. And though years had passed, to him, those wounds were still quite new. Deep down, Rain knew that it would take far more than time to heal the abrasions on his soul and the pain in his heart. Her own experience taught her such—her pain from the Dark Gundam was still fresh, and the effects from being used as its life force unit haunted her today—however she didn't like to dwell on things of that such. Because if time didn't heal all, then what would?

Some of them thought Domon was domineering, which he was. They saw him as possessive, and thought he fancied himself above them, because in their eyes, he didn't seem to care for much in the world at all. He was strong, they knew, which is why they whispered. They knew he heard though. God, how _couldn't_ he? And the fact that he didn't care about _that_ only assured them of the fact that he thought himself a cut above the rest.

Rain was too good for him, they thought. She was too pretty, too kind, too polite, too _everything_. And she was naïve, they thought, for letting herself fall in with someone like Domon Kasshu.

But what did _they _know? Those people were hypocrites, bowing in thanks to Domon after the Dark Gundam incident, yet scorning him for being _who he was_ when he tried to move on with his life afterwards. Everyone thought they _knew_, thought that, because they saw it, it was true. But people didn't see Domon when he was broken and vulnerable. People didn't see Domon when happy and laughing; when he held her hand as they walked down the street, or when he clutched her tightly as they slept. They didn't see the _looks_ he sent her way, or the way he'd run his fingers up and down her spine while they sat holding each other, watching TV. They didn't see the way he would stand up for people, or the way he would help someone who needed a hand. And if they saw, they never gave him due credit.

Simply put, they didn't see what Rain saw. They didn't really _see_ at all. And, according to Rain, what they thought of Domon meant nothing, and what they thought of their relationship meant even less. People didn't keep her warm at night; Domon did. Or he used to at least.

Everyone didn't share the same prejudice against the King of Hearts, though. In fact, a lot of people didn't. To some, he was a celebrity and they treated him as such, which didn't always turn out okay, given the fighter's _ever_ pleasant disposition.

The truth was, the reason why Domon didn't care much about people whispering behind his back was because that's how things always were for him. Domon had told Rain that, after he had received the King of Hearts title from Master Asia and was traveling on his own, people had always called him _arrogant_ and _rude_ and thought he hadn't _a bit of home training at all._ To have people treat him the same way as they had before the Dark Gundam, he said, made him feel normal. Like things hadn't changed so much after all.

He was quiet afterwards, and Rain knew he thought it was weak of himself to think that way; she saw it in his eyes. And, giving him a smile, she laced her fingers with his and gently squeezed, silently giving him all the comfort and reassurance that she could. That was how things were between them, though. They both hurt, and they both needed support. And words, usually, just weren't enough.

Their relationship wasn't all hugs and kisses—seeing as that just wasn't the type of man Domon was—but it was beautiful in its own way. In all honestly, it was actually pretty turbulent—with arguments about this or disagreements about that. Rain didn't care though; she loved Domon, temper and all, and didn't want him to change for anything. Just as she was sure he didn't want her to change anything about herself, either.

However some promises were more important than others, and the one Domon had made to Rain came second to the one he'd made to his master. And thus came their current predicament: Domon going to train for six months and leaving Rain, alone.

"Doctor you're zoning out on me again." Kumiko waved a hand in front of the woman's face, letting it drop to the surface of the desk when she regained Rain's attention. Rain blinked, and Kumiko studied her uncertainly. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Rain answered, rubbing her forehead to relieve herself of some of the pressure building up there. "Just a little tired." Upon seeing the uneasy expression on Kumiko's face, Rain offered her another synthetic smile. "Really, Kumiko, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Kumiko asked, not feeling particularly comfortable with Rain's response.

Rain nodded, turning away from the receptions desk and walking to the exit. She stopped and fastened the light coat she was wearing, preparing herself for a walk in the early February weather. Turning back to Kumiko, Rain offered the woman a small smile. "Mata ashita, Kumiko."

"Yeah," Kumiko responded softly. "Dewa mata." She looked down at the nearly-finished crossword puzzle she'd been working on before her conversation with Rain. A seven letter word for misery… Suddenly it hit her, and the woman's brown eyes widened briefly before she hastily scribbled the word in the blank.

Despair.

* * *

Rain walked through the automatic doors that led in and out of Takashi Yamane Medical Center, her pace sluggish as she made her way to the hospital parking complex a block away. She sighed tiredly. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried to keep Domon out of her thoughts, he always found a way to the front of her mind. She knew how to get him out though—the way she did everyday. 

Rain crossed the street, walking right pass the parking complex and continuing down the moderately busy streets of Kobayashi City—one of the few places in Japan that hadn't been destroyed by Gundam battles. _Not yet at least,_ Rain thought as she sighed, looking up at the darkening sky. The city was so beautiful. It was depressing to think of what it could become.

Four blocks away from the hospital Rain turned a corner, coming to a stop almost immediately in front of a small ice cream shop. She'd been coming here everyday since Domon left, ice cream becoming the single thing that made up her daily meals; a sundae for breakfast, a milkshake for lunch, and a pint of whichever flavor she was feeling like for dinner. It may have been unhealthy—in fact, she'd gotten sick quite a few times from her pure confectionary diet—and she could see that her waistline was clearly suffering, however Rain couldn't help it. The moment the cold sweetness came in contact with her taste buds, her pain was momentarily relieved—her mind being lifted on a sugar induced high. Yet as soon as Rain swallowed, the high was gone—her relief dissipating rapidly as that oh too familiar pain came over her once again. It was always going to be there though. Thus she constructed a rigorous schedule revolving around the two things that took her mind off of it—work, and sweets.

Rain walked back to the parking complex slowly as she enjoyed the treat she'd just purchased. The ice cream was cold as it slid down her throat, cooling the burn of her broken heart. She stood in front of her car while she finished, depositing the container in a nearby trashcan before getting into the vehicle. She sighed as she started the engine, heat beginning to blast from the vents on the dashboard. She removed her coat, preparing herself for the hour drive to where her home was located outside the city.

Over the past five weeks Rain had considered moving into a small apartment near the hospital where she worked to avoid the frustrating commute. However she decided against it. Domon had purchased that house for them with the money he'd received from the Neo Japan government for participating and winning the 13th Gundam Fight. And, whether he was with her or not, Rain would stay in it, traces of his past presence in the house haunting yet comforting all the same.

In all honesty, from the substantial amount of money Domon had received from the government, neither he or Rain would ever have to work a day in their lives. However just sitting around the house doing nothing with her time wasn't too appealing to Rain, which led her to get a job at a hospital in one of the cities close to their home. She wasn't particularly sure of what Domon did with his time while she was at work—he never giving her a straight answer when she asked. Though Rain was certain it was mix of training, meditation and wandering. Their home was surrounded almost completely by woodland, and Rain was positive that's where he was when she couldn't find him.

Halfway through her drive home, traffic slowed before coming to a halt completely. There'd been a major car accident up ahead, consequently adding another hour to Rain's drive home.

"_Damnet,"_ she cursed, banging her hands against the steering wheel in frustration. Sighing, Rain settled back into her seat, preparing herself for a wait. She looked through the windshield at the sapphire sky, seeing a few stars glimmer in the dark. She barely noticed her eyelids drooping closed as a sudden wave of fatigue washed over her form. Her mind began to drift from where she was in the car and into the past; to a time where her chest didn't burn from heartache and her mind was at ease. She wasn't alone either. For Domon was there, standing right by her side—just as he said he always would.

* * *

It was well after eight when Rain finally arrived home. The sky was nearly pitch black, and had Rain been coherent enough to notice, the lack of street lights along the road in the area she lived in would've driven her mad—as the fact often did when she drove at night. However tonight was different, as she was too tired to notice much of anything besides the point where she had to turn off the road and into her driveway. 

The drive home was a blur, Rain being awakened from her impromptu nap in the car by the angry driver behind her; him or her constantly blowing their horn in order to get Rain to move when traffic began to pick up again. Rain was fairly amazed she managed to get home in one piece, pretty sure she'd been half asleep the entire drive home, her little doze in the car doing nothing to take away from the fatigue that had been building up steadily for weeks. Unlocking the door had been near impossible, and Rain had half considered slumping down on the doorstep and falling asleep right there. However, upon feeling the cold, February wind that blew through the area, she abruptly changed her mind, endeavoring to unlock the door with renewed vigor in hopes of lying down in her nice, warm bed and sleeping for the next three weeks.

Rain's eyes had been drooping closed again within moments, and she stumbled into the foyer when the door finally opened. She took off her coat, the material falling to the floor somewhere near the coat rack as she hastily redid the locks on the door. Rain looked to the staircase, the structure seeming impossibly far away as walked over to the couch, legs giving way as she lay sprawled out on the comfy sofa.

Rain sighed blissfully, closing her eyes and fully expecting to be swept away by fatigue. She snuggled into the cushions, remembering the feel of the warm body that used to lie here beneath her, an arm wrapped possessively around her waist as they both slept. She remembered a hand rubbing soothing circles on her back, a voice whispering that it was okay and the same arm holding her tightly while she cried. Rain could feel something tightening in her chest, and she shifted her body, rolling over onto her stomach as she felt tears prickle behind her eyes.

_Oh, Domon,_ she thought despairingly, old memories making her temporarily forget her exhaustion. She sat up, shoulders slouched and head slightly bowed as she began to make her way to the staircase. The memories, however, wouldn't leave her, and everywhere she looked, she could see herself with him, his arms wrapped around her as he soothed her tormented soul. All those times before, he'd seen—understood. So why not now? Every other time he'd been here to save her, so why not _this_ time when she needed him—possibly more than ever before?

Rain's pain was apart of something far bigger than Domon leaving and breaking her heart. Maybe another time, she would've been okay about him going to train. She wouldn't have been happy about it, and her heart surely would've been broken as well, but she would've _dealt_ with it—far better than she was dealing with it now. He'd left her twice before, after all; the first time to train for a month, and then the second time train for three. On some subconscious level, Rain supposed she had suspected he would be leaving again. And soon. But when she found out that Nastasha was pregnant… God, nothing that she _suspected_ mattered after _that._

Domon had known before her, and he, being the ever-caring boyfriend that he was, had waited before telling her. It'd been two weeks before he left; they were in the kitchen, he seated on a barstool and she on the counter in front of him, both of them having just finished their lunch. His voice was low—though steady—as he spoke, his eyes watching her closely for her reaction. Rain listened intently to what he said, both mind and face blank of anything as she processed his words. When she had, however, the only emotion she showed—and felt, for the matter—was surprise. And then she was all questions and smiles, asking Domon things he wasn't even remotely sure how to answer and telling him how happy she was for the two.

"_They've been married for more than a year," she had said. "There's no reason why they shouldn't be starting a family."_

Not like there is for us. _The thought gave Rain a start, and she felt something within her twist and tear and break all over again. Her heart was pounding; she could feel it—_hear_ it. She couldn't swallow. She couldn't _breathe_. And God, she was going to be sick—_

"_Rain?"_

_The woman blinked, inner turmoil vanishing instantly as she looked into familiar brown eyes. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath through her lips, giving Domon an apologetic look when she opened her eyes once again. "Sorry. I was thinking about something." _

He'd nodded, accepting her reason, and discussion had turned back to the new edition of the Gulski family. Afterwards, when the topic was old and her questions asked and unanswered, he'd asked her if she was okay. Rain, touched by his concern, had given him a smile.

"_Of course I'm okay," she told him—_lied_ to him. The fact made her uneasy, and she pushed the thought away. She wasn't supposed to feel like this. She _wouldn't_ feel like this._

"_Rain?"_

_She shook her head, silencing his inquiries. "I'll always be okay, Domon," she said, running a hand through his hair. Her voice quieted a bit and her face softened. "As long as I have you."_

_Domon returned her smile then. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a tender kiss on the smooth skin of her palm. "I love you."_

_Rain's smile brightened a bit. "I love you, too."_

_And then she was in his arms, his lips on hers and his hands roving over her form as he sought for that familiar, intimate connection. Rain's mind went blank once more, and she was scarcely aware of Domon carrying her to their room, or of the soft cushioning of the mattress beneath her as he laid her down. The only thing she felt was his lips on her neck, and his skin on hers, and her legs around his middle, and Domon pushing forward, and forward, and God, God, God, she loved him so much._

_A few hours later, Domon had left. It was still early in the day, and he had more "training" to do. He wouldn't be out long, he said, and he expected Rain to be up by the time he returned. There was a clear warning in his words, though Rain paid it little regard. The woman stayed in bed long after he had gone, the afterglow of their lovemaking fading and being replaced by an unwanted tightness in her chest. Rain curled up into a ball, naked body shaking regardless of the sheets placed over her as her mind asked the same selfish question it'd asked long ago, when the facts were new and the pain was still fresh. _

_Why?_

_She didn't want to feel this way. She wasn't supposed to feel this way—especially not after what she just had with Domon. It was supposed to be okay. For the longest time, it _had_ been okay. She'd accepted it, lived with it. So why? Why did it hurt so much now?_

Rain felt her knees buck, and she crumpled to the floor, tears running freely down her cheeks as she sobbed. Why? Why couldn't it be her? Why couldn't she give Domon a daughter, or a son? It was because of the Dark Gundam, she knew, and her mind was instantly filled with more questions. Why was she the one used as the life force unit? Why couldn't it have been someone else? Why did the Dark Gundam have to take so much? Why did it have to cause so much pain?

Rain knew the answers to all of these questions. She had thought of them constantly when she had first found out about her problem, and had logical answers for them all. And she hated that; hated that each question had an answer, and that each answer made sense. It made it all so painful, so much harder to bear. This was wrong. Things weren't supposed to be like this. Hadn't she given up enough already? Hadn't _Domon_?

The Dark Gundam took away a year from both of their lives, and had taken away the lives of his mother, brother, and Master, and the life of her father. Wasn't that enough? Did it honestly need the blood of their unborn children as well? Yes, they had each other now, but why couldn't they have more? Why couldn't they build; try to replenish what had been taken away from their lives? Why was it that, after they had put an end to the destruction caused by that monstrosity of a Gundam, they couldn't even live happy, normal lives, like other happy, normal couples, in a happy, normal house, with happy, normal children? Why?

And why, after she had accepted this—come to terms with it—did it still hurt so much now?

New tears burst from her eyes, and before Rain knew it, she was curled up on the floor, hands clawing at her stomach as she prayed for the pain to go away.

* * *

Rain adverted her gaze from her reflection, not wanting to see the puffy, red eyes, matted hair, or blotched makeup that covered her face. She caught a glimpse of herself anyway, and choked back another sob as she shut off the faucet, feet heavy as she trudged her way from the master bath and into the bedroom. The empty bedroom. Rain felt the familiar clenching in her chest at the thought, and she placed a and over her heart in a childish attempt to suppress the feeling, whimpering softly as the pain remained. Rain closed her eyes, unaware of the twin tears that streaked down her cheeks as she sat down on the bed. 

For awhile she was still, body heaving as she fought to get her emotions under control. She peaked a glance at the clock on the bedside table once she had, looking away quickly when she realized the time. 11:57. She'd spent nearly four hours crying on the living room floor. Great.

God, what was _wrong_ with her? Three years had passed; why was she still crying over about it—agonizing over it as if it she'd just found out a few days before? She'd cried over it so much already that she should be able to deal with it on her own now—shouldn't even need Domon to be near. But what she _should_ have been able to do was not what she could, and what she _shouldn't_ have needed was not what she did.

But Domon was gone. Yes, she needed him—desperately so, in fact—however the fact remained that he wasn't there. He hadn't _been_ there for the past few weeks, and wouldn't _be_ there for many more to come. So why was she still crying for him?

The answer was simple: She didn't know what else to do.

It was ridiculous. Utterly, utterly ridiculous. She was so weak; crying for the children that she couldn't have, and for the lover who wasn't there. These things should have settled in by now. She shouldn't have been crying anymore.

Rain felt a flurry of emotions within her, and she realized, for the first time since Domon left, that she was angry. She was angry with Dr. Kasshu for creating the Dark Gundam, angry with her father and General Ulube for misusing it. Master Asia and Wong wouldn't have ever gotten their hands on it if not for her father and Ulube, but Rain was angry at those two as well. And she was angry at the Gundam itself; angry at the monster it had become, and at the devastation it had wreaked upon her life.

Rain was angry with God for letting this happen to her, and with Nastasha, too, for getting what she so badly wanted to have. She was angry with Domon for not being here with her—for leaving—and for not having the decency to give her a proper goodbye.

Yet most of all, Rain was angry with herself. Because after three years, she had thought that she'd gotten over these things—that she'd moved beyond them. She had thought that she was no longer angry. Though she'd been lying to herself, it appeared. For, after all this time, she still pretty much felt the same way she had when the doctor first told her she could never bear a child.

Rain blinked, eyes wide with shock from her realization. Nothing had changed. Nothing at all. She'd been… hiding, all this time. God, she was so weak.

An unknown feeling churned within the woman, and she climbed into the bed and lay on her side, fully expecting to cry herself to sleep. She stared into space for awhile, not even noticing that she hadn't shed a single tear. She did notice, however, the blinking red light of the contraption next to the alarm clock on the bedside table. It was the answering machine. She had a message.

Without even getting up, Rain reached over and pressed a button on the machine, a computerized voice informing her that she had one new message before it began to play.

"Rain." The deep, familiar, tone was impossibly loud in the quiet of the room. "How are you? I was hoping I'd catch you home now, but I suppose you're still at work. I won't go into detail now, but I need your help. Call me back as soon as you get this message. It's important."

The voice disappeared, and there was a _beep_ signifying the end of the message. Rain sat up in bed, emotional turmoil briefly forgotten as her eyebrows marred in confusion and lips pulled low into a frown. She replayed the message over in her head, perplexity increasing as she tried to make sense of the words.

Odd. What would Dr. Kasshu want with her?

- - - - - - -

Love is... heartache.

- - - - - - -

TBC...

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hey everybody. Yes, get prepared for the excuses. They'll sound familiar, but I really don't know what to say. I could write out some long winded excuse as to why it's been nearly two months since I've posted, but I really don't feel like it. I've been a bit depressed lately--with personal stuff, and then with everything happening in the Gulf Coast with Hurricane Katrina. Probably more than it usual would, seeing as one of my friends/reviewers/beta reader lives in that area. We all know and lover her (and her writing) and I'm just glad that she and her family are safe.I pray to God that everyone who lives in that area is safe, and that they're able to get back on their feet soon. 

Now, to the fic:

This chapter is unbeta-ed, and I feel bad for saying this, but I need a new one. If you guys would be so kind, point out any grammatical errors that you see and I'll fix them as soon as I can.

As for content... I'm sure everybody can see how much extra content I've added to this (if you remember how short the chapter used to be before--about 2500 words). But I seriously think I overdid it with the angst in the tears. It may be because I took so long in writing this, I'm not sure, but there just seems like there's too much. I kinda sorta give out a lot of information in this chapter (the whole part about Rain not being able to conceive children wasn't mentioned in the original fic until chapter fourteen), but I'm starting to think that it was too much. And is it just me, or did this seem choppy too?

All in all, I'm not overly happy with some parts of this, and I hope I'll do better with the next chapter for both my mental sake and your enjoyment. I'll try to have out a chapter a month (ask for anymore and I'll give you crap--literally), and the next chapter will be shorter... I think. You never know with me. This chapter is nearly 6500 words.

**To my reviewers:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed. You guys are totally awesome, and you light up my day with your comments. I'd respond to everyone individually, but word has it that the site is deleting stories with individual reviewer responses in them, so that's that. I really love you guys though, and chances are that you just might receive an email from me thanking you. If I ever get off my lazy ass that is.

Much love guys,

Zoe (if you don't know that's my name by now then... well, yeah. No comment.)


	3. Thinking of You

**Disclaimer:** I don't own G Gundam—only the dumb situations I put the characters in.

**Author's Note:** It's been nearly a year, I know. Don't worry; I don't plan on making it a pattern. I think. Check the A/N after the chapter for my... excuse.

For **Cuz I Can**, who told me to get off my lazy ass and write. You're an inspiration, man.

**Too Much Too Little**

**Chapter Three:** Thinking of You

It was hot.

The sun bore down on the earth mercilessly, blanketing the area the King of Hearts was traveling through with a blanket of sweltering heat. Domon walked along the crowded street sluggishly, his usual brisk pace having succumbed to a slower one as the heat sapped nearly all energy from his being; the fact that there were hordes of people walking through the streets not making the high temperature any easier to deal with.

Domon kept his eyes cast on the ground—away from the murderous sun—as sweat streamed constant paths down his face. He was currently headed towards the hotel George had chosen for he and the rest of the Shuffle Alliance to stay in for the night before they split up to train; Domon opting to go straight from the hotel from the airport for some rest. He would be getting that rest now, too—if only the hotel wasn't so God damn _far_ from the airport and there weren't so many God damn _people_ on the street. Domon sighed in frustration. Someone up there was out to get him. He was sure of it.

Lifting his head every so often to see where he was going, Domon observed the people walking through the busy streets of Cairo, Egypt. A lot of them were tourists—which he supposed he'd be considered as well—however quite a few were natives. Domon could tell by the tanned color of their skin and the way the moved so expertly through the crowds. That, and the fact that they seemed to be utterly unfazed by the hot weather—which, he assumed, was because they were used to it. Thankfully, though, the sun was beginning to set.

Domon sighed, mopping the sweat from his from his forehead with the back of his hand, his hair subsequently un-clinging from the dripping skin. He didn't know how these people did it everyday. He'd just arrived in Cairo this afternoon and already he wished to leave. It was just so God damn _hot_; the air so thick and heavy with heat it was almost painful to breathe. Why couldn't they go train in the mountains somewhere again? Yes, Domon preferred the cold to the heat any day. However, as he'd learned during his time training with his master, extreme discomfort made for excellent training. And what could bring a man who wouldn't mind scaling the side of a mountain without any protective gear whatsoever more discomfort than to throw him a desert for three weeks with only the bare necessities and expect him to train to get stronger?

_Nothing_, Domon thought. Of all the members of the Shuffle Alliance, he hated this leg of the training the most. They all bitched and moaned about it; however Domon loathed the thought of training in the Sahara with every fiber of his being. So why, you might ask, did he propose they train there to begin with?

_Because_, he'd say, _sometimes you have to do things you don't want to_.

Oh, how true was _that_. Domon could relate the statement to many things, though it seemed to fit best not with the current situation he was in concerning training in the desert, but with a certain brunette he'd left in order to do so.

Domon closed his eyes briefly as he walked, catching a glimpse of her behind his closed lids. He could see her face, her head titled back as she laughed, sienna tresses falling over her shoulders and her blue eyes bright—their color enhanced even further by the mirth swirling within them. He smiled faintly, opening his eyes as he sighed. _Rain…_

Domon ran a hand through his hair, thinking back to the last time he'd seen her. It would be ten weeks since he had left tomorrow; ten weeks since he'd last seen her face—in the flesh, at least. It was impossible to count how many times Domon had imagined her. Every time he blinked, she was there.

Domon swore that he heard her sometimes, too. Her voice had been in his mind for years, a constant echo in his thoughts; however the frequency of which he heard her had reached startling levels. He could be in the middle of a dense forest or high on the peak of a mountain, but he would swear he was hearing her. Sometimes it was her laugh; others, it was her voice as she hummed, softly—the way she did when she thought she was alone. And, sometimes, she was even calling his name, her voice soft as a summer breeze rustling the petals of a new bloom.

"_Domon…"_

The man tightly shut his eyes, knowing that she wasn't really there—that it was just his imagination playing tricks on him once again. He opened his eyes and looked around, almost as if to assure himself that she really _wasn't_ there, and that he really _was_ walking along the hot and crowded streets of Cairo. Alone.

Perhaps it was the heat that was bringing it on now, causing him to hear things that apparently weren't there. But God, it sounded _just like her_, the voice the perfect timbre and pitch Rain used when she called out to him while they were in bed, the last syllable of his name coming out as a moan as he did something that drove her absolutely _wild_.

_No, no,_ no, he thought to himself, trying desperately to will the thoughts away. He couldn't think about those things now. He had things to do—things which didn't involve Rain and the way she moaned his name when he did those _things_—those dirty, _dirty_ things—he did to her when they were alone.

But _fuck_ if she didn't make concentrating hard. She was everywhere and in everything, hardly giving him time to focus on anything else. Morning, noon, and night, she was there. Always. At times, though, her presence was more difficult to bear than it was at others. Without a question of a doubt, it was the worse at night.

When Domon laid his head down to rest, her face plagued his dreams and nightmares alike. He tossed and turned each and every night, trying to get away from her while desperately trying to hold on, to _really_ have her in his arms again. She was always one of his subconscious imaginings, though, seemingly real—seemingly close enough to touch—but always out of reach.

It was frustrating, to say the least. Here he was, trying to concentrate—trying to get _stronger_—and he couldn't. Why? Because he couldn't get his mind off his girlfriend—who he'd run out on while she was locked in their bedroom crying her eyes out for him. It was some sort of odd divine retribution, the karmic forces of the universe at work to make him suffer for what he'd done to Rain.

But it wasn't fair. It wasn't as if Domon had _wanted_ to leave her. Sure, he'd wanted to go train, but he _had_ to do that. There was no way he _couldn't_. What type of fighter—what type of man—would break a promise he made to his dead master?

_But_, a voice within him added, _what type of man would leave his sobbing girlfriend without properly saying goodbye?_

Domon scowled.

So maybe it was wrong. That didn't mean that _he_ was. Right?

The voice didn't respond.

Besides, it wasn't as if he didn't miss Rain either. For crying out loud, _she was the voice in his head!_ Everywhere he went she was with him, driving him crazy with that demure laugh of hers or one of her soft exclamations. He missed her every second of every day. He missed her smile, her voice, her touch, her hair—he missed everything about her. He missed being with her, alone. Missed the contentment he got from just sitting with her watching TV or watching her while she cooked or brushed her hair. He missed holding her as she slept, missed having to wake her up twelve times in the morning and telling her that she was a half an hour shy from being late to work. He missed the different expressions her face would take—from jovial to exasperated—and missed the funny little twist her lips would get when she wanted to smile but wouldn't. God, he just missed _her_. There was no way to fully list all the ways. He wanted to be with her so bad, the urge sometimes exhibiting itself as a tangible pain racking his form.

Thoughts of her burned, manifesting themselves as fire running through his veins. He'd nearly collapsed once, unable to deal with the heat and pain that thinking of Rain brought on. It wasn't normal. Hell, it wasn't _healthy_. He'd known he would miss her (hello? He _loved_ her), however he hadn't known it would be like this. It'd _never_ been like this. All the times when he'd left before—at first for a month, and later for three—there'd simply been this longing. To see her, to touch her, to have her in his arms again—Domon had simply longed for her. Nice, normal longing. It had been hard to deal with, but he'd gotten through it. Now, there was a fire—a burn. And it hurt.

Nevertheless, Domon didn't like to dwell on things of that nature. It was stupid, and distracting, _and_ _stupid_, and he'd never figure it out for the life of him. It just was. Just like how the sky _just was_ blue, grass _just was_ green, and he _just loved_ Rain. Of course there were actual, _clinical_ reasons for why these things were the way they were, but they were complicated. They were what they were, and Domon liked to leave it at that.

He only wished it wouldn't make his head hurt so God damn much. And that it wouldn't be driving him friggin' _insane_.

The man sighed, looking skyward to curse the sun and its incessant heat. It was too hot to be only mid-March, and Domon felt a sudden rush of yearning for his homeland of Japan and the cool weather the country was no doubt still experiencing. Even if it _was_ a little warm there at this time—which, in itself, was extremely rare—he could always retreat to beneath the dense foliage of the forest surrounding his home; the weather there remaining temperate nearly all year 'round. Here, though, in this God forsaken country of sand and sun, there were hardly any trees to be found. At least, not the strong, tall trees _Domon_ was used to.

And, if things got really bad, Domon always had the option of simply staying in and enjoying the chilled air provided by the central cooling system. He'd be able to do that soon, too. _If I ever get to the God damn hotel,_ he thought grumpily, crossing yet another street. George was _never_ to pick their hotel again.

As he continued to make his way through the crowded streets, Domon began to wonder what he and Rain would be doing now if he hadn't left to train. March signified the end of the winter months, and Rain probably would've been working on her garden. It was a new hobby of hers, one to which she devoted a surprising amount of effort. It both awed and amused Domon to watch her work. She was a proficient laborer, her pace always unhurried and her mind set on the task at hand, guaranteeing that it was correctly performed. Things did have the habit of going a bit awry, and Domon had always found it amusing to watch as her frustration grew as she tried to sort through her gardening troubles. For the most part, though, Rain's hobby seemed to relax her, and it made something within the fighter to swell to watch as her small, dainty hands sowed the seeds of life within the cold unforgiving earth.

Domon had always felt a connection to nature, his years training out in the wild with his master as a boy sealing the link between him and the natural world. He loved the tranquility of trees and water and life undisturbed by technology and modernization. The simplicity of it called to him like a siren's son—a song which he had no qualms with answering.

Once, during the Gundam Fight, while they were stationed in the Guinea Highlands for Domon's training, Rain had commented on how odd it was that he felt at home so far away from civilization. Domon had ignored her, annoyed with the fact that she couldn't see why. He'd spent _years_ in the jungle; of course he was at home there. And, he remembered thinking, he'd been angry with the fact that she wasn't comfortable there, too. Not that he'd cared much about Rain's comfort back then, but still, the thought had been there.

Domon smiled ruefully. He wished he had been more attentive to her back then, that he would've opened up his eyes and seen the treasure that had been in front of him all along. It would've saved them a lot of the drama that had followed in the ensuing weeks.

It all just seemed so stupid sometimes. Rain had always been there, urging him on and pushing him forward, waiting for him to realize that, no matter what, she would forever remain by his side. She'd told him that she'd fallen in love with him in the Guinea Highlands; that, despite the thoughtless way he'd treated her then, her heart had gone to him.

"_I hardly know why myself,"_ she'd told him that night while they lie in bed. _"You were just so _mean_."_ She'd released a little laugh. _"But I suppose that even back then I could see all the pain you were in. You hid it so well, Domon, covering it up with rudeness and determination to master that rusty old sword. I still saw it though, no matter how seldom. _

"_But perhaps the real reason why it happened was because, out there in the wild, I saw a side of you that I'd never seen before. You're different out there. I mean, you were still an asshole most of the time—_" He had poked her in the side in protest._ "—but you were different. You'd been so determined to find your brother and the Dark Gundam that you hardly spared a thought for anything else. Over the months before then, I'd gotten only a handful of glimpses at the man you had become over the years. While we were in the Guinea Highlands though, I got to see a whole lot more of who you were. And I fell in love."_

Domon couldn't say for sure if that was when he'd fallen in love with Rain too. To be honest, he didn't even _know_ when he'd fallen in love with her. He just knew when he'd realized it—when it had almost been too late.

Domon shut his eyes, waiting for the memory to pass. He didn't like to think of how he'd almost lost Rain to the Dark Gundam. Seeing her being used as the life force unit for the monstrosity had been painful to the fighter, however watching the woman he loved suffer from the effects the machine had upon her form had been infinitely worse. He remembered the day they'd found out about it well, how frightened he'd been when he'd come home that day, not finding anything but the phone off the ringer and a puddle of blood by the bathroom door.

Domon's stomach muscles clenched in some sort of violent revolt against the thoughts, bile rising in his throat as he remembered how her blood had been smeared across the floor, almost as if… Christ, it was as if she'd been dragged across the hall. He remembered the terror he'd felt, how the feeling had encompassed his entire being, how he couldn't even _move_. And he remembered the smell—the salty, musky, _deathly_ smell of the blood on the floor. It'd nearly made him faint.

Domon had thought the worse. A thousand and one scenarios had run through his mind, each more horrifying than the one before, showing him images of Rain taken away by some deranged killer, raped and tortured and bleeding and hurt and God, no, no, _no._ He wasn't going to think about this now.

_Breathe_,he reminded himself, trying to get himself to calm down. _She was okay, Domon, remember?_ _She was okay._

Okay, though, was a relative term. A call from his father had alerted him to Rain's whereabouts, and he'd found her in a hospital hours later. She _was_ okay, in a sense, however very much _not_ okay too. Domon hadn't bothered with listening to all medical jargon, much of which he didn't understand anyway. All he'd wanted to know was three things: what was wrong (Rain couldn't have children), what had caused it (being used as the life-force unit for the Dark Gundam), and could it be fixed (no, it could not.) Simple questions, simple answers. Not so simple pain.

But damnet, he wasn't going to think about this!

Domon hadn't tried to comprehend Rain's pain. He couldn't. He would never know the pain of losing what she'd lost. He supposed he had lost something, Rain's inability to bear children directly affecting his ability to have any of his own as well. He would never even _consider_ the mother of his children being anyone but Rain. Domon had tried not to think about that, though. Who was he to lament never becoming a father when the woman he loved was torn up because she'd just lost the one thing that, in her opinion, had made her a woman? Rain had lost far more than Domon had in the situation, and, in light of that, he tried not to think about what _he_ wanted, and the pain he felt when he realized it would be forever out of his reach.

Because he could just see it in his minds eye: a little boy with his hair and Rain's eyes, staring up at him with a smile so much like his mother's. Domon could _see_ it—hear the burst of sound flowing from the toddler's lips as he threw his head back and giggled. He imagined the boy's soft skin beneath his fingers as he touched the cheek, eyes bright and happy as he smiled at him, called him "dad."

He'd never have that, though. And it hurt.

But honestly, those things—children—were just things that he wanted. Rain was something he _needed_. He'd never leave her. Perhaps he always would want more—a pretty blue-eyed boy with his mother's smile—however as long as he had Rain, Domon would always be content. Because he _needed_ her. Like breath—water. Like mercy from the Gods above. There was no way he could go on without her. And if children simply wasn't in the plan for them then damnet, that was just the way it was going to be. Because no matter how much more he wanted, Rain was enough. He thanked the Gods everyday for her, and strived hard to convince himself that they knew what they were doing.

Yet it didn't stop those selfish urges of his. Rain may be enough—for forever—but still, he wanted more. He'd always want more.

You couldn't always have what you wanted, though, and, in an effort to ensure his sanity, Domon thought of it all as a trial of endurance; the Gods testing his strength. It was all about endurance, focus. Being strong. Getting strong_er_. Training him to be a better person. Lover. Man. And he was determined to pass, no matter what.

His whole life revolved around different challenges, in love and friendship and life. And here he was now, facing another one of those challenges. Being away from Rain was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to face in his life. It wasn't something he was going to run away from. He _hadn't_ run away from it. It was why he'd left her those two times before, why he'd left her this time, ten weeks ago.

It was why he was standing here, in front of the hotel where George had made their reservations. It was why he wouldn't call her, or even write. He never did. He never _would._ Perhaps it was mean and insensitive of him, but that was the way things had to be. Because it was all about endurance, focus. Being strong. Getting strong_er_.

Domon sighed, starting up the stairs of the hotel, pushing through the people bustling around the massive structure. He was training right now. Nothing else could—_should_—matter but that.

Of course that wasn't the case.

Domon scowled, cursing darkly to himself as he made his way to the receptions desk to retrieve the key to his room.

- - - - - - -

Love is... missing you.

- - - - - - -

TBC...

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**Author's Note:** Okay. So. I've been out for a while. I know. And you know, I've had this chapter like three-fourths finished since about... December. But you see, last January (the first, actually), my sister passed away. And I've been having a hard time dealing with it. I'm better now, of course, and I'm pretty content with things now. But still. Yeah.

Also, I've been getting more involved the Harry Potter fandom, which takes away from my involvement with this. It's mostly that I think my muse is finished with this story. It has been for awhile. I finished it two years ago, and now I'm writing it over because last year I was insecure and thought it totally sucked and started it over. Don't worry, I plan to follow through.

This chapter definitely wasn't worth the wait. The next two won't be worth it, either. Wait till chapter six, though. That's when they get back ;)

I haven't been keeping up with any of my friends on the net (you guys know who you are), and I'm sorry for that. I don't know when I'll get back to you guys, but I do miss you. But... there's a reason why I haven't, and maybe I'll be able to talk about it eventually. Let us hope.

I thank everyone dearly for their reviews. I see quite a few have racked up since I've updated last, and I can honestly say I'm giddy about them all. There are a few I have to respond to but... yeah, I'll get to that. Eventually :)

See you guys soon. Hopefully. And I hope you guys review.


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